ataraxionlogs | EVENT: SPACE PIRATES ▒ OXYGEN GARDENS

Once she was done with a few batches of escort runs, Shepard moved among those gathered, helping where she was needed. From pitching tents, to helping to sort and catalog supplies, she did what she could to make things as smooth as possible. The last thing they needed was panic -- she knew that all too well.

Keeping an eye out for strange behavior was second nature, and she combined that with a loose patrol that covered any and all exits, stopping to talk to people here and there.

[ She really had not expected everyone to start coming in here. She really should have.

Regardless, Cat does her best to keep away from the rest. Her wolf is restless, a perfect mirror image to how she feels.

When she cannot handle it anymore, she gets up, hoping she can slip out the door without anyone stopping her—or worse yet Robb or Bran or Jon seeing her. ]

Edited 2013-04-20 23:43 (UTC)

[ Rapunzel is terrified.

First space then aliens then dinosaurs and now pirates.

She does hide well, though. She hides between the leaves, hunched down with Pascal and trying to convince herself that she is brave enough to live through this.

If you do pass by her hiding place, though, she'll leap out surprisingly fast.

Get ready to have a frying pan flying towards your head. ]

The tents were up and everyone seemed settled. Wanderers from random levels occasionally found their way into the gardens to keep away from the dangers just outside. But Cibo hadn't planned to stay near the others in those open spaces through the extent of their occupation. She wouldn't be very far if they happened to need her, as she is more than capable of doctoring or befriending those in need.

But Dhomochevsky, Cibo's coelacanth, lived in the streams nearby. And while he didn't need any sort of external care at any other point of his normal day; He was particularly prone to any negative external forces upon him. i.e. being gutted and consumed by invasive rude-ass pirates.

So for the entirety of the night, Cibo would be in that general area to keep patrol. Her mind at ease as she didn't need to worry about resting. (She slept only a night or two ago at that point.) But in some way she also seemed a little distant while she watched Dhomochevsky swim calmly through the cold water. As if his back and forth motions made her think of somewhere not aboard the Tranquility— The only other place she had ever known.

[ It's getting harder to slip into the role of Madam Mayor. Harder because every day spent here is a day spent away from Henry, harder because there seems to be no way out and harder because Regina is nearing the end of her patience.

And now pirates; as if she hadn't had enough of those from that vermin Hook.

Still, she slips into the faux concern and care of Madam Mayor because she needs to, because she needs to plot her way out but also avoid enemies.

That brings her to the garden, black dress and high heels and red lips as she passes blankets, makes certain tents are held properly, tries to ask anyone (with a smile that is a bit too rosy), if they are well.

The rules are different here; but that doesn't mean Regina cannot adjust to the game. ]

[She's glad to be here in the gardens. She knows that she's safe here, and besides that, it's one of her favorite places on the ship. It's also one of Buttercup's, which is good, because for once in his life the grumpy cat is relatively docile. She sits under a tree with her mangy cat, keeping a watchful eye on her surroundings. She knows that she needs to make sure others are okay, and be ready to help anyone that may need it. She wants to be useful, even if she's not really sure what she can do just yet.

Every so often she gets up and wanders around the crowds gathered at the makeshift tents, hoping to see someone she knows and can verify that the people closest to her are all right. She carries a makeshift medical kit on her, one almost similar to her nurse's bag from District 13. She hopes she won't need to use the contents, but figures it's better to be prepared. Just in case.]

[He's decided to enter the gardens as a wolf. It's easier this way, he thinks - to protect those who are hiding, to detect any incoming danger and overcome it wit more ease. Not much he can do as a human, anyway... He just hopes he won't have to revert back unexpectedly. Last time that happened was just a little too embarrassing to allow his dignity to take a second hit.

Andy goes around sniffing the grounds, much taller than your average wolf, and apparently belonging to no one. Humans may approach; Andy might even approach them with a curious glint to his eyes too.]

[Chell is still new to the ship but she's spent a bit of time in the Oxygen gardens to know it's a place she likes. That's why holing up in here seemed like a good idea, despite the crowds that seemed to be going there as well.]

[She's off to the sides, keeping clear of most of the groups. The Portal gun is either in her hands or close to them and she keeps a wary eye on anyone who decides to walk near her.]

Rey is already camped in the gardens, and has been for some time -- ever since her own room on the lower first deck has been in no habitable condition. Doesn't mean that she is adverse to sharing the space, however. Not when there's so much of it to go around. And it's peaceful here. Easy to think, and speak.

Of all places for any unwelcome guests to ransack, the gardens is most important. That's been her lasting impression. Oxygen was, after all, important.

And food.

The jungled areas are a tangly mess and easy to hide in. Which she does for the most part when faces, both familiar and strange to her, arrive. For those who wander in her general area, she will likely stalk them silently for some time until it becomes clear that their motivations are to settle and not to take. Whether they decide to strike conversation is entirely up to them.

[Heather is on her very best behavior.

Currently that means walking the gardens in a massively oversized coat with a distinctly gun-sized weight in the right pocket, frowning a lot, and accosting anyone who looks even vaguely lost to ask them if they know what they're doing or need anything.

Please, somebody need something. So far being attacked by pirates is not nearly as exciting as it sounds, and she's getting restless.]

[ alfons has not been particularly thrilled about this experience thus far. being dragged onto a spaceship is one thing (maybe even exciting), but being dragged alone is entirely another. there's been no sign of edward or alphonse or anyone he knows, he's had to find a new doctor, he has a lot to learn and adjust to if he's going to be useful here, and now pirates.

really.

the gardens are lovely, of course, but he's having a difficult time appreciating them. everything aches, bone-deep pain that usually means he's stuck in bed attempting not to move. that's.. not really an option with potentially-hostile thieves running around the ship snatching everything they can get their hands on, though, and so it's with that in mind that alfons had bundled up the few meager little belongings he has and taken himself down to the oxygen gardens.

at the moment, he's curled against the foot of a tree, a handkerchief pressed against his mouth to muffle the sound when he coughs, the book edward had gifted him with pressed tightly to his chest. he's at least mostly certain that if anyone sneaks in that doesn't belong there, there are a dozen other people perfectly capable of fighting them off, but just in case, there's a wrench at his side that he can grab if necessary. ]

[Bail knows his strengths. He's not a fighter. He can defend in a pinch, but in general, he is better with words.

Since the pirates have no interest in that, he's settling in to the gardens, making his way around, speaking with the others]

He's not on Agriculture staff.

He's not on Security staff either.

But if helping protect the Oxygen Gardens from intruders is something Konoe can do, you bet he's going to offer himself for the job. Or he can just help around with things, that counts, too. Anything but sitting idle in his room.

As safe as it's supposed to be in here or there, he's more worried about someone outside... but deep down, as long as he can hear his Song's call answered, he can relax some. Some. He's armed, a curved sword at his belt, and with a closer look his ears are always turning towards distant sounds, his tail flicking absently more often than not.

Maybe he's on the ground helping with set up (or trying to), or up on a tree limb, staring towards the exit. Wherever he is, if he hears someone coming he's not going to miss it... a little distracted or not, there's no hiding from this cat.

She knew the importance of following orders. It was hard locating where exactly any of the pirates were within a ship the size of the Tranquility and hunting all of them down before they looted everything would end up being a waste of time. She had all of her items of importance were on her or stashed nearby in the gardens, an easy feat given that the only personal belongings she had here were clothes and her weapons.

Tex had been keeping herself busy with with gathering supplies or helping to escort those who still remained around the ship and needed to get here. For now, though, she had taken up a guard position by the lifts and was trying to ensure that everyone who attempted to enter the gardens had one of the tattoos that was characteristic of their ship's crew.

[The last time Crowley went camping, he was a homeless alcoholic somewhere in Scotland that was only "camping" because he couldn't afford a house.

Crowley, now, is no longer that pathetic excuse for a human being, and is instead surveying the surrounding refugees and campers with a special sort of disdain, because this

is

disgusting.

He's really only here out of morbid curiosity and a total lack of interest in fighting pirates for food and belongings that he doesn't really need. Instead, the demon King is walking around to see what everyone else is doing.

He also may or may not be playing fetch with his dog in a completely discreet manner, which involves flicking his fingers and tossing a stick with telekinesis across the way, so if your tent suddenly falls over thanks to a massive invisible force, that would definitely be Crowley being something of a dick to the poor helpless members of the Tranquility.

Serves them all right for cramping his style.]

Gathering food seems to be the best way for her to use her time right now. There is, of course, a campfire to cook with, but she doesn't know how well she can do with an open flame. There's no harm in trying, though. Soup seems like a good choice, so she's picking some carrots and digging for potatoes. There isn't much of an option for meat while they're all confined here, but that's just fine with her. A soup with plenty of vegetables (and maybe a few fresh herbs) should be just fine.

There's mud on her purple sneakers and grass stains on her torn jeans, but she doesn't seem to mind. All she wants is to make sure everyone stays calm. And to do so herself, even with Heine out with the security team. She knows he'll be alright, but that doesn't stop her from worrying.

Edited 2013-04-22 03:56 (UTC)

When they weren't helping out in other areas of the ship, mainly shuttle bay, the two of them had chosen to sleep in the oxygen gardens. Mainly this was a protective decision on York's part; Delta was still new to this body and York wasn't entirely sure he would be instantly ready should someone invade shuttle bay when they were sleeping. It would give them a nice respite in between times of stress, besides.

York obtained a tent for them to use and the two of them found a nice spot to pitch it in. "Looks like we're going to end up with a lot of neighbors before long," York remarked as he watched others filter in carrying supplies of their own.

(( ooc: feel free to address York or Delta or both! we'll default to both unless you express a preference ))

Edited 2013-04-22 04:10 (UTC)

[Bran has a favorite tree in the Gardens, and it is here beneath it that he waits--though even he is not sure of what he is waiting for. For news, perhaps, for word that the pirates have gone and the ship is safe again. But he dislikes waiting. He is always waiting: first for his father and his sisters to ride home, and then for Robb and his mother--and then waiting for the three-eyed crow to tell him what to do--and now he is here, waiting again.

Sometimes he feels old and wise, but mostly Bran feels small and stupid and useless, only a child. When Robb and Jon were his age, they were allowed to do many things, but even with his robotic legs, Bran is here, beneath this tree. Should he have insisted that he be allowed to go out into the corridors, the way that Arya has gone? No, that wasn't Bran's way. Even if he is feeling a little sulky (put your lip away, Brandon Stark, or a stingy fairy will land on it!, he can almost hear Old Nan scolding), he still minds Robb. Father would have wanted him to mind Robb, and Robb has too many cares to worry about a crippled brother.

So he lays beneath the tree in the Gardens, staring up at the branches, one hand resting on Summer's shoulder. And he waits.]

Edited 2013-04-23 01:23 (UTC)

[This guy is all over the place, checking up on literally everything, and even if he wasn't getting his busybody everywhere a veritable wall of Dutchman on business by bicycle is hard to miss.

Or maybe he's carrying his bike as he walks through the camp on the second level, with it slung across his shoulder like it weighs nothing. Wheeling it into the livestock pen as he checks on the animals. Stopping to interrogate someone on the first level because only his staff and SEC are supposed to be here, you moron, are you trying to get shot? (Then again, not like he knows everyone on SEC. Whatever.) And on the rare occasion when he falls asleep, it's near Mattie's old camp, bike against a tree, back against the bike. No one is coming near his fucking bike.

Regardless of where he is, he probably wants to know what the hell you're up to, even if you don't work here. Especially if you don't. If you do, well - time for a status report.]

[ it isn't the first time he's been in the company of places where unwelcome people dwell. hiding from them is nothing unfamiliar, scrambling by on what remains to survive even less. so here he sits, empty handed save for the sheathed blade in his lap, one hand curiously slipped beneath the folds of his cloak.

the ring whispers to him, whispers when he is restless, when there is still joy to be found, always, it speaks. but today it speaks loudly, has no desire to be taken here, where there is no way to return to the one who made it. these men are not it's masters, and his master can not be found in the stars.

so it tempts it's bearer, tempts it to escape any danger, to fall hidden under it's evil like a far heavier cloak that will show nothing.

his eyes flutter, the sounds around him add only more to the temptation that weighs over him. he knows what he's always known. that another person cannot have the ring.

but there's something even worse sitting, doing nothing -- waiting for some stroke of doom to strike. and he begins to think. ]

The first day, Thranduil is occupied with casting the sleep spell he spoke with Tyke about around the perimeter of the camp so that any intruder stepping inside the circle will simply collapse in sleep. He's used to casting it over smallish areas, but this is not a smallish area at all. This is a very large area, so he spends the rest of the day catnapping (with his eyes open) or just resting and listening to the network like it's a constant radio broadcast of updates.

After that, he'll actually be of some use to the camp, helping keep order where necessary. He'll also seek out the following people: Fili, Daylen, and Legolas. The entire time, he leaves the network running, although he himself is not broadcasting, just listening.

He is.. very alarmingly armed, though perhaps not so alarming given the current situation. But even here where there are SEC patrols, where there are people like his father (especially when there are people like this father), he has his bow and arrows strapped in while he makes his rounds around the garden, where usually he would forego everything but the knives at his waist.

Occasionally he will be checking in on the various camps, silently. Sometimes announcing his presence and asking if anything is needed, sometimes just a lingering glance to see if all is well. In spite of (or perhaps, despite) the current situation, he's in no hurry to go anywhere in particular. Yet.

((ooc: will only be in the gardens icly until the 23rd, then he's getting shipped off for a mission and fighting pirates :u))

Edited 2013-04-24 16:33 (UTC)

Things had sure become interesting around here for a change. Sigrun was used to this level of action, and wasn't about to waste time sitting around in a circle with the others. She had become far too restless in her time aboard the ship to wait. She gathered a little food, and set off to scout around the perimeter that had been set up.

She was curious about these pirates, and had no intent to harm any of them with out cause. Still, she was vigilant, as she moved through the only some what familiar terrain. If any one made an attempt to strike at her, she wouldn't hesitate.

[In truth there's no real need for Gold to be here. He feels no threat from their invaders - in fact, would welcome encountering one, have a chance to get some answers out of them. But it's always interesting to see how the inhabitants of this ship deal with the various incidents thrown at them, and this particular set up - the overthrow of any comfort in routine and familiar surroundings - is likely to shake certain elements to the surface. Tension and stress were always good stimulants to see what a person was made of.

He doesn't take a bed, nor any of the mismatched tents scattered around. In fact has none of his belongings with him at all, safely secured in his room (with magic, not technology). But with the way he simply seems to wander around the camp, taking a brief rest here and there to watch people move around, it may be hard to tell that.]

[For the time that Sarah had been in the gardens so far she would occasionally stop and help out while talking to the some of the others who were down here too trying to be as normal about all this. After aimlessly walking a bit, sat down near the shade to take a bit of a break from that. There current situation wasn't anything she couldn't handle due to her training as an agent but Sarah's cover dictated otherwise so she was sticking around a bit longer before she headed off to do other things]

coммander ѕarĸa ѕнepard ▒ open

arya "cat" stark | ota

rαpυɴzel | oтα